


Matches & Kerosene

by lilithenaltum



Series: Both Hearts Beat Like a Metronome [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky and His Goats, F/M, Future Fic, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, May/December Relationship, Mutual Pining, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Protective Bucky Barnes, Shuri Takes Charge, winterprincess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 13:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14522016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: “What do you need, Shuri?”Her eyebrows raise and she nods for him to come to her and he does, without a thought. Her hand finds his and the jolt of sensation, her skin against his, makes him draw in a deep breath.“I need to be allowed freedom to be a woman. To be wanted. To be coveted and craved."Bucky shivers at the phrase, and he swallows hard. He wonders what his face looks like in the dim light of the near dark office. He wonders what she sees when she moves ever so closer, stands on tip toe to look directly into his eyes, and whisper that she needs more than what she’s had.“I need to be loved,” she finishes, in a voice small but sure, and it takes every single ounce of strength he has not to wrap his arms around her and hold her to him tightly, to kiss her hard and make her breathless, to tell her that he loves her.Because he does love her. Dear god, does he. He knows that now, realizes that in that one moment and it knocks him speechless."The White Wolf falls head over heels for the Princess of Wakanda,hisPrincess, though the implications of what they could be terrify him.





	1. is your conscious clear (can you get it clean?)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always loved and appreciated!

There is hope for us  
There is distance between you and I  
We have just enough  
And it comes as no surprise  
I was in between  
You were matches and kerosene

_-Hope For Us_ | **The Jealous Sound**

* * *

 

It’d started months and months before, whatever they’d had, but Bucky pins the turning point down to the weekend she takes him with her to Oakland.

 

It’s been over three years since he’s stepped foot in the States and he finds he doesn’t miss anything about it. There’s no bright morning sunshine, no soft fragrant grass, no gentle bleating of the goats ( _his_ goats, the one the villagers had given him as a present) outside here in this concrete jungle. He misses waking up to the quiet and calm of Wakanda, misses the bold beauty of the marketplace in Birnin Zana, misses home.

 

Wakanda, he knows now, is _home_.

 

But he doesn’t say any of this to the princess. Instead, he puts on his best face and straps the metal arm on and soldiers his heart because he is her protector. He has to play that part, no matter how much he loathes leaving the safety of his small cabin in the forest. He owes her this, and so much more, and he serves her with pride and a loyalty he hasn’t felt for anything or anyone since Steve. Oh, he’s loyal to the king, too, because were it not for the generosity and quiet forgiveness of T’Challa, he would still be a broken, useless wretch.

 

Perhaps he is still broken, in more ways than one, and perhaps no one will ever quite be able to put him back together again (not even Shuri, not even her), but he isn’t useless, that’s for sure.

 

He’s a killing machine. It’s something he’s slowly come to terms with, even as he feeds Isinye and Bini and Thathu every morning, hauls hay and fetches them water and watches them play and grow. It’s not something he wants to be, but it’s him. And if he can use that in a better way than he had in the years before, then he will.

 

Bucky is a killer, but he’s _her_ killer. He’s known that for as long as he’s known how to tell her _thank you_ in broken Xhosa.

 

The trip to Oakland is a quick weekend one; there’s some work to be done at the community center. Nakia oversees the majority of it, but she’d wanted a vacation of sorts with T’Challa and the king had so missed his beloved. Shuri volunteers to finish the job-overseeing a block party and fair for the kids in the projects-almost too eagerly, and T’Challa had given her an amused, near suspicious look.

 

She really just wants to get out of Wakanda for a few days, he knows. Bucky knows too, but he’s loyal to his princess so he keeps mum, a hint of a smile playing about his lips as he stands to the side with Okoye. The general shares a look with the White Wolf and her grin nearly blows his cover. She knows the truth, this fierce woman who had become his friend, but she won’t say a word either.

 

But perhaps Shuri’s reasons had a thread of pure altruism running through them because when they get to California, she launches head first into the work she’d come to do. There’s a not a lot left to be done; Nakia had taken care of most of it, but the fair needs an organizer, and she is nothing if not organized. Within hours, she’s got everything set to start the next evening.

 

“DJ, check,” she mutters under her breath, going down a list of to-do’s that she’s definitely already finished. It’s the fourth time she’s gone over the list, and Bucky holds back a sigh. “I think the bounce house will be here in the morning…or was it that afternoon?” She shakes her head and grumbles something he can’t hear, reaches for her phone to call the inflatables company, but Bucky stops her.

 

“You’ve called them twice,” he says, and the look on her face makes him want to laugh.

 

“What’s a third time, then?” she asks, but he slides the phone over from her reach, pulls the list from her hands.

 

“Everything is taken care of, Shuri,” he insists, watching her for signs of fatigue. She’s not slept since late the previous evening when they’d left Wakanda, and he worries she’ll burn herself out over inconsequential details. “And if it isn’t, I’m sure some of the assistants can handle it.”

 

Shuri rubs her temples and slouches just a bit, enough so that he worries, the way he always does when she isn’t smiling or laughing or actively fussing at him. He wonders if perhaps he’d stepped out of bounds (again…he’d done so on the plane when he’d told her to nap and her scowl had made his heart thump hard in his chest) so he steps back to give her space, wait to apologize.

 

She reaches out and grasps him by the hem of his shirt and tugs him close. Her fingers curl under the cotton tee, knuckles just barely grazing his stomach, and in that moment, he can actively feel all the blood in his body drain below, can feel the hair on his arms prickle and rise.

 

_Dear god_ …

 

There is a line there that he’s sure she’s crossed. She’s touched him before, numerous times, during fittings for the arm and in jest, while visiting the cabin. But there’s something oddly intimate about this, about how she glances up and doesn’t pull her hand away, her tired eyes sparkling and her mouth curved into the slightest of smirks.

 

She knows what she’s doing.

 

Bucky clears his throat and pulls away just a enough so that her fingers slide off his skin and rest on the waistband of his jeans. It’s not much better, but there’s no heat on his belly now, so he can think a bit clearer, can assess what she’s doing. She seems to get the hint and she lets go, turning away with a roll of her eyes, the humor souring into something like annoyance.

 

And perhaps, he thinks, there's some disappointment. But he doesn’t want to think of the connotations of that, so he brushes it aside and assumes she’s irritable from lack of sleep.

 

“I’m fine, I promise,” she says, tossing the list on to the far end of the desk. When she stands, she rolls the kinks out her neck and yawns, eyes drooping. “But I’ll get a nap if it’ll stop you from hovering.”

 

“I’m not hovering,” he protests, but he can hear the tease in her voice and that relieves him a bit. Whatever moment passed between them is gone, though he can’t be sure if he’s glad it is or not. He should be.

 

He knows better.

* * *

 

The fair is a success, the way he knew it would be.

 

Many of the activities start late in the afternoon, when the heat of the day isn’t so hot and the grownups have gotten off work. Food trucks and vendors line the streets; artists and craftsmen crowd into the basketball court of the apartments above. There’s bands playing and poetry being recited, colorful decorations swaying in the warm, slight breeze. Bucky relaxes a little at Shuri’s side while she kicks off the festivities and then descends the stage, in search of something cold and sweet.

 

“There’s a guy here that makes flowers out of ice cream,” she tells him, leading him through the people gathered. He knows there are three of the Dora Milaje dispersed throughout the steady growing crowd in case he needs backup, and he tries his best to appear as conspicuous as he can. He doesn’t like the idea of intimidating anyone he doesn’t need to, and the smiling faces of those around him, enjoying the beautiful weather and the fun festival, pose absolutely no threat to him nor to his charge.

 

But it doesn’t stop him being on guard, though. His eyes dart here and yonder for any sign of danger, most of all to the princess. She’s enjoying herself, stopping every so often to chat with some of the young people in the crowd and a few of the assistants he’s seen at the center. She’s a bright shining star and he watches with pride in his chest, the rush of something else he’s been denying for weeks now.

 

It’s when she nears the ice cream man does his hackles actually rise. “You want anything, Bucky?” she asks, digging around in her jeans for some bills. Bucky glances up to the menu and debates on a strawberry rose or a cake batter peony. The peony is prettier. It reminds him of Shuri, the way everything else does.

 

“Get me a peony, if you don’t mind. Maybe a little whipped cream in the middle?” Shuri gives him a wink and a grin and he falls back to stand in near the far end of the court, just to give her some space.

 

She waits patiently for her turn to order though he knows she could skip ahead if she likes. Everyone here knows she’s a princess; they all glance in her direction and shoot her timid smiles, hovering off to the side for fear of getting too close. And selfishly he thinks they’ve got the right idea of it. They’ll have to go through him to get to her and he can’t be sure that everyone’s intentions are pure.

 

She’s second in line when a group of young men meander over. They can’t be much older than Shuri is, early twenties at the most, and one in particular grins familiarly, sidles up to her in a way that makes Bucky uneasy.

 

_Jealous_. Later he’ll realize it made him jealous.

 

He can’t hear what the boy says, though he catches the smooth deep timbre, eyes that easy grin. He’s handsome and charming, and whatever he says makes Shuri laugh. When he leans in and puts a hand on her arm, Bucky reacts without thinking. He’s by her side in an instant, face tight and though he’s just a little taller than any of the boys, he holds himself like he’s towers over them by a foot or more. He flexes the metal fingers, enough so he can hear the mechanisms inside whirl and compress, and it intimidates, the way he'd intended. The conversation halts to nil.

 

Shuri frowns and turns her head, narrowing her eyes in exasperation. “Did you need anything in particular?” She asks, mostly under her breath. Her friend mills about anxiously, looking everywhere but Bucky, mostly at his feet.

 

“Was thinking about the ice cream, your Highness. I think I’ll go with chocolate instead,” he says, pressing his flesh hand to the small of Shuri’s back. When she jerks away he reconsiders the choice he’s made to interrupt but only just. There’s a little fear in that boy’s face, and really, that’s all he wanted.

 

What he didn’t want was a very angry princess dismissing herself from her friends, forfeiting her spot in line and tugging him to the community center. She stomps up the stairs, foregoing the elevator and slams open the office door in a huff.

 

“Was any of that necessary?!”

 

Bucky raises a brow, then closes the door calmly.

 

“Any of what? I’m just doing my job.”

 

She scoffs derisively at that and stalks to the desk.

 

“None of you want me to have a life, do you? I can’t even talk to a friend without you smothering me!”

 

He thinks to tell her, once again, that he’s just doing his job, but he isn’t in the mood to lie to her anymore. Instead he rubs his eyes and sighs, his way of apologizing.

 

“I only want to protect you.”

 

Her face softens just a bit. “From what? A boy? I can most definitely take care of myself in that regard.”

 

“Can you?” He asks, tilting his head. “Cause I used to be one of those boys, Princess. I know how they work. I know what they’re after.”

 

“And what if that’s what I want? What if I want them to...to-“

 

“Use you and spit you out?”

 

Her eyes widen in surprise and Bucky knows he’s stumbled over that line once more, but she doesn’t reprimand him. Instead she lets out a laugh that makes him feel foolish and guilty.

 

“Between you, and Mama and T’Challa and Okoye and everybody else, I don’t get a break. I can’t do anything I want, I can’t go anywhere without one of you.” She shakes her head, her anger and frustration palpable and it pours off her in waves. He wants to understand, but she has to know how valuable and precious she is. He can’t let anything happen to her. He would never be able to live with that.

 

“I’m a grown woman,” she continues, walking around the room like a caged lioness. “I’m 20 years old, nearly 21 in a few months and-“

 

“You’re also a princess, Shuri,” he says, hating to interject but she has to understand where he’s coming from, where her mother and brother and Okoye are all coming from. And right now, she is his priority, over everything, over his own health and well being.

 

There’s something to be said for being willing to give one’s life for another, but Bucky knows that if it came down to it, he would give the life of _anyone_ else for hers. Anyone, not the least of all his own.

 

The glare she turns on him almost scares him, until he realizes she isn’t angry at _him_ so much as she’s tired of being coddled and protected. “I’m well aware of that, Sergeant Barnes,” she grits out, sarcasm dripping from every word, and by god, he should not be so heated from hearing her call his name like that. “And that is precisely my point! Just once in my life I’d like to be treated like everyone else. I want to be able to go to the store or shop by myself, to have dinner in a dingy little diner without three Doras and a bodyguard lurking in the corner.”

 

He narrows his eyes at that, his nostrils flaring as his temper spikes just a bit. He knows she’s irritated the circumstances, but that is her lot and no matter how unfair, she has to deal with them. He thinks she’s gotten the better end of the stick than most, and almost thinks to say so but remembers his place. Instead, he bites his tongue and scowls.

 

She catches the shift in his mood the second it happens, though, because her voice softens and she moves closer to him, pressing a soft hand to his flesh arm. “I’m sorry if I’m taking all this out on you. That’s not fair.”

 

His temper disappears as soon as it’d appeared and he shakes his head, offers her an understanding smile. He can’t imagine what it’s like not being allowed to do everyday normal things alone, to have your own life outside of your title. Perhaps he’s lived that way for a long time now, but he can remember before. It’s a hazy jumble of sepia toned memories of when he truly was just Bucky, not the Winter Soldier, not the White Wolf, not the princess’s personal escort.

 

He doesn’t regret that last title a bit, though.

 

“Look, it’s what I’m here for,” he says, giving her a little grin and her shoulders relax just a bit. “I mean, if I could let you wander off around town by your lonesome, I’d do it. Give me a break, you know?” She snorts and then chuckles, her hand tightening around his bicep. It’s warm through his shirt.

 

“But I can’t do that, Shuri. And I won’t. This ain’t just about your brother, either.” He lowers his head so she holds his gaze because he’s got to make her understand that this is deeper than following orders.

 

“You are…important. Valuable.” He struggles to think of other adjectives, ones that don’t scream out lovesick and pathetic. But he can’t help the echoes of _incredible_ and _one of a kind_ and _irreplaceable_ that bounce around his brain. He can’t help thinking of how utterly beautiful she is like this, with her hair down and her sweet face gazing up at him like that.

 

He wants to kiss her then, so bad it’s painful.

 

“And you’re my friend,” he gets out, stressing the friend part, more for himself than anything. If he sees her deflate some at that, he ignores it. “I’ve lost too many people to let anything happen to you. And a lot could happen to you here, especially if someone knows who you are.”

 

“But good things can happen too,” she insists. She turns from him, her hand sliding away, and then walks to the window, looking down at the fair around them.

 

“You know how old I was when I got my first kiss?” she asks. He blinks at the question, and wonders if he really even wants to know the answer to that.

 

“19. I was 19 years old.” She laughs sadly and shakes her head. “Boys back home won’t touch me, won’t even look at me most of the time. Boys here…well, I’m not really their type.” He thinks of the boys on the basketball court and their rapport and wonders what she thinks guys see when they look at her, because he’d seen something there, the way they’d all stared after her in awe.

 

It’s probably the same way he looks at her, he thinks.

 

“So how I managed to even get a kiss, between being untouchable and pure and perfect, is anyone’s guess. The Jabari are bold types, though, so there’s that.”

 

“Jabari?”

 

“One of M’Baku’s younger cousins. I won’t tell you who because I know you.” He can’t help but laugh at that and she does too, but then she blows out a breath and when she turns back around her face is so sad, it makes his heart ache. 

 

“My brother would never force me to marry. I know that, everyone does. Baba would have never either, Mama won’t. I appreciate that, truly. I can focus on my work and the lab the way I want for as long as I want. And I know that if I ever want to marry, I can do so when I’m ready. No sooner.”

 

“But…”

 

“But I can’t marry just anyone. Everyone knows that. So they hold me at arm’s length and pretend I don’t need the same things most other women do.”

 

Bucky studies her for a short while and gathers his words, trying to find a way to ask her this without it coming out the wrong way.

 

“What do you need, Shuri?”

 

Her eyebrows raise and she nods for him to come to her and he does, without a thought. Her hand finds his and the jolt of sensation, her skin against his, makes him draw in a deep breath.

 

“I need to be allowed freedom to be a woman. To be wanted. To be coveted and craved."

 

Bucky shivers at the phrase, and he swallows hard. He wonders what his face looks like in the dim light of the near dark office. He wonders what she sees when she moves ever so closer, stands on tip toe to look directly into his eyes, and whisper that she needs more than what she’s had.

 

“I need to be loved,” she finishes, in a voice small but sure, and it takes every single ounce of strength he has not to wrap his arms around her and hold her to him tightly, to kiss her hard and make her breathless, to tell her that he loves her.

 

Because he does love her. Dear god, does he. He knows that now, realizes that in that one moment and it knocks him speechless.

 

She apparently doesn’t like what she sees because she slinks back and frowns, waves her hand away as if nothing she’s said is of any consequence.

 

“I’ll get it one day, I’m sure,” she says with a resigned little smile. There’s a hurt there that he knows is his fault. But he can’t, he can’t, he shouldn’t, she’s too good for him, he doesn’t deserve this.

 

“You will,” he assures her, because he knows someone else, someone worthy, will come along and steal her heart and win her love. She’ll forget all about this little crush, if that’s what it is, that she’s got and he’ll go back to being just the shadow in the background that wants and watches and wishes.

 

Shuri blinks a few times and gathers herself, smooths out the front of her shirt and starts to the door. “I think the danger has passed, James,” she says airily, the previous minutes forgotten. “There’s an ice cream down there with my name on it.”


	2. kiss me on my mouth (can you sing for me?)

She avoids him for days after they get home and he pretends it doesn’t bother him that she doesn’t call or come visit the cabin.

 

He spends his days the same way he does when he’s not on duty or training with the Dora; feeding his goats and tending his little garden, fishing in the pond nearby, lying in his hammock until the sun sets golden red on the horizon.

 

But it doesn’t feel right, the way it had before. He feels empty and he’s angry to think that he’d driven Shuri away from him. That was the last thing he’d wanted to do, though a part of him thinks that perhaps this is for the best. He'd do nothing but sully her and tarnish her and she's too good to be caught up with the likes of him. There's too much red on his ledger and crimes he still haven't paid for. Maybe, he thinks, as he corrals Insinye and Thathu into their pen, Bini nuzzling his shoulder sleepily, that she'll forget all about this and in a few more days they'll be right as rain again.

 

But as he falls asleep, he knows he's lying to himself. She's deep down into the very marrow of his bones now, has wound her small hands around his heart and held tight. No matter how long he lives or what happens between them, he will never be able to shake her. He'll never go back to how he was before he knew her.

 

And he doesn't want to.

 

He wakes up to a text from her, only one sentence, five little words.

 

_We need to talk tonight._

 

Bucky stares at the screen until his eyes burn and blur from not blinking and then he shoves the phone into the wicker basket beside his cot. He goes about his day as normal, though he can't stop thinking about that text, and he wonders, as he pulls in two large fish for supper, just what she needs to talk about.

 

The worst comes to mind. She doesn't need him anymore, she's sending him back to America. Maybe she'd decided she doesn't want anything to do with him now, after his jealous little posturing back in Oakland. Whatever it is, it makes his stomach knot up until he's so anxious he can scarcely eat his dinner. He picks over the fish and shoves it away, deciding that whatever the case, he would at least get washed up to meet her.

 

Bini follows him to the pond, bleating happily along the way at his heels. He stops to scoop her up halfway there, when she whines, and sighs as the goat licks at his face.

 

“You're a spoiled little thing, ain't ya?” he drawls, ruffling the fur on top her head. She only bleats in response and butts his hand. “Uh huh. But whose fault is that? Mine. Shoulda let you rough it like I did your ma, is what I should have done.”

 

Bucky sets the baby goat on shore near his clothes and wrap, where she noses at the fabric and kicks her little legs about gleefully. The water of the pond is just warm enough to be comfortable, clear and clean and fresh, and he dips down to get his hair wet. He soaps up quickly, thankful for once that he's got two hands to do the work. Washing his body with one hand isn't nearly as challenging as it had been, but doing his hair had been a bit of a hassle. He'd had the children in the village to help him before; out here on his own, he could only resort to a quick wash and the occasional detangling. He decides he’ll pay Kiye, the village chief’s wife, a visit for a braiding in a few days time.

 

He sucks in a breath and drifts underwater for a while, drowning out everything but the sound of his heart beating and the faint noise of Bini as she plays in his clothes. He doesn't hear the car pull up or the footsteps skidding down along the narrow, dirt paved path. It's not until Bini's little bleats get louder and more excited does he even know anyone is there. Poking his head above water and wiping his eyes, he's surprised to see Shuri, hours early, wearing a bright pink and purple sundress and looking all the world like the princess she is. Her hair is down and the sandals she wear show off a fresh coat of polish on her dainty little toes. It's almost as if she'd gotten dressed up for his sake.

 

He entertains the thought for just a moment, but shakes himself after and shrinks back toward the pond as she approaches, Bini in her arms.

 

“She's gotten so big!” she says with a smile, stroking the kid's soft fur. “Last I see her she was still nursing. How is her mama and brother?”

 

“You know. They're goats. Eat everything in sight and keep me up all night makin' noise.”

 

She laughs, a pretty trilling thing that makes his heart skip a beat. And then he remembers he's naked under the water and he clears his throat, glances towards his pile of clothes. They're covered in goat hair and he hadn't brought any clean ones, but it'll have to do.

 

“What's the problem, Sergeant?” she asks, the smirk on her lips coy and knowing. He narrows his eyes and shoots her a glare that could stop a grown man but only makes her chuckle and she slips one sandal off, dipping her toes into the pond. “Water's nice and warm, isn't it? It'll be cool tonight, so you'd better come on out.”

 

“Yeah, that's...kinda what I'm trying to-”

 

“You didn’t bring a spare set of clothes, did you?” she asks, shaking the other sandal off and walking knee deep into the water. Bini snuggles her neck and bleats as Shuri scratches behind her little floppy ears. “I know, sweet baby. He won't come out and greet his princess, will he? Rude.”

 

Turning around, she lets the kid jump from her arms onto shore and Bini snuggles back into Bucky's clothes to settle down to nap. For a quiet minute, neither of them say a word, though Bucky is conscious of how vulnerable he is right now.

 

“You said you wanted to talk, right?”

 

She nods, and walks out further into the pond. The hem of her dress dampened then soaked, but she ignored it, and kept going until she was waist deep. The bright pink fabric splayed out around her and she sighed at the coolness of the pond, letting her fingertips drag along the surface of the water.

 

“I do. About Oakland.”

 

Ah. He'd figured that. But he couldn't talk like this, not naked save the cover of water that was chilling as time passed.

 

“Mind handing me somethin' to cover up with? I'll make you some tea, or-”

 

She shook her head, and wordlessly unbuttoned the bodice of the dress, sliding the straps over her shoulders. His mouth dried and his skin flushed as he watched, and then, with a mental slap, he looked away.

 

“Shuri. _What are you doing_?”

 

This wasn't right, not in any way, no matter how much he hungered for it. He knew what she wanted now. It was the same thing he'd wanted for a while, that he'd fought against.

 

“What does it look like?”

 

Bucky shook his head and let out an anxious laugh, keeping his eyes on the water, on the trees around them-anywhere but her.

 

“It looks like you're with playing fire, that's what it looks like,” he grounds out, and the sound of her laughter sparks a flame in the pit of his belly. He hadn't wanted something so bad in so long, not the way he wanted her right now. And though the water was cooling, and his skin prickled with gooseflesh, he could feel his body responding to the thought of having her the way he craved.

 

Daring to look her way, he saw the dress flung out and over toward the shore, as she walked out to where he stood in only her underwear. She wore nothing else but the tiny little panties, and his eyes fell to the slight swell of her small breasts, her dark nipples. She was beautiful and divine and he was so unworthy.

 

“Bucky, don't tell me you don't want me. Not anymore.”

 

He shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That ain't it at all, sugar,” he says. “I just wonder if you've really thought about this. You don't understand what you're getting into.”

 

She snorts. “I've known you how long?”

 

He sighs. “Three years, give or take.”

 

“And I've seen who you are. I know everything about you, Bucky. _Everything_.”

 

His mouth tightens into a line at the thought but her next words are soft and gentle.

 

“So I do know what I'm getting into.”

 

God, he can't believe what he's hearing right now. She's so close to him now he can feel the heat from her body, and it makes him shudder.

 

“No...no, you've seen it...but you ain't lived it. You deserve better than this.” He glances at his metal arm, the one she'd made him, and winces at the scar tissue that lines his shoulder. “An old man, not even whole.” His laugh is dry and bitter. “Darlin', you deserve a _prince_. Not me.”

 

She shakes her head again and frowns this time and looks all the world like a warrior more than a princess.

 

“I know what I want. I know what I deserve. I'm not a child, Bucky. I'm not stupid-”

 

“I didn't mean-”

 

“But you _did_. You think I don't understand how they'll look if I'm with you? You don't understand that once this is over and done that there's no going back?” She rolls her eyes, angry and frustrated like she was in Oakland, when he'd pulled away from her and brushed her feelings aside.

 

Just a crush, he'd thought, but this was something else. And yet, he has to ask her once more, before his resolve fails him.

 

“What are you doing? Do you know, Shuri? Tell me.”

 

When she speaks this time she is more than sure, and he knows her mind is made up. “I'm taking what I want,” she says, firmly, though her voice wavers a bit. She's as nervous as he is, maybe more, and that thought somehow grounds him. “I'm tired of waiting and asking and hoping and I...I'm tired of being without.” She licks her lips and he clenches his fist harder, avoids touching her for as long as he's able. But he wants to slide his hands along the expanse of her soft, dark skin and make her shiver and he knows that she does too.

 

“Without what?” he dares to ask, and the look in her eye is wild and inhibited.

 

“This,” she whispers, grasping the back of his neck, digging her nails into the hair at the back of his neck. He closes his eyes, mouth open slightly, and lets out a slow, shaking breath.

 

“Shuri...” he groans, body jerking when she leans in and kisses his throat, then works her way down to his collarbone. “Shuri, you can't, you-”

 

“I can,” she breathes. She lifts her head up to meet his eyes, her brown eyes heated and blown wide and his words die on his breath, lost to the breeze that blows around them when she kisses his mouth.

 

He loses all thought. It's nothing like he'd imagined, late at night when the quiet was too much and the cot too cold. It's urgent and insistent, but still innocent in a way. He remembers, as he dares to pull her close to his wet, chilled body, that she's done this only a few times and he nearly pulls back in guilt. He doesn't want to spoil her, stain her.

 

But she whimpers and tugs his head back to hers, devouring him like she's starving. The heat within him builds and climbs from a small flame to a raging fire, threating to swallow him whole. His fingers grasps at her hip, slip around to tug her even closer and she pulls back from the kiss to let out a breathless moan against his lips.

 

“Bucky...”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

She pants and nuzzles his throat, her breath warm on his skin. He fights to catch his breath and calm his nerves, but it's no use, not with her hands on his skin and her near naked body next to his.

 

“Take me back to the cabin.”

 

There's a moment's hesitation where he struggles against himself, fights the passion spiraling out of control within, the want. He's not been with anyone in so long, hadn't truly wanted to be but he wants her now, so badly that all it takes is a bat of her lashes, the scraping of her nails against his neck to spur him to move. He bends his knees and wraps his arm around her waist securely, hauls her out the water effortlessly, and carries her back to his cabin as she covers him in kisses.

* * *

 

Shuri waits in the cabin as he tends to the goats, making sure they've got hay for the night and fresh water. When he comes inside, she's draped in one of his wraps, bits of skin peeking out as she lays across his cot. He stops for a moment just to stare, drinking in the sight of her so comfortable in his humble little home. She deserves luxury and opulence, a great big lush bed and scented candles and rose petals scattered around the room for her first time. Instead, she'd opted to come to him and take what she wanted in his little two room cabin, in the middle of a forest, in the middle of nowhere.

 

The idea that she'd rather have this with him over that with someone else, somewhere better, someone younger and whole, took his breath away. And so did her eyes when she turned to him in the doorway, braids slung over one shoulder and her lips turned into a small smile.

 

“You sure about this?” he asks, walking slowly over to the cot and sitting at the end near her feet. She pushed her toes on to his bare belly and stretched her foot out, and he obliged her, grasping it in his hands. His thumb slides down to stroke across the arch and she breathes out through her nose harshly, biting her lip to keep from laughing at how it tickles.

 

“I'm sure,” she finally responds, pushing the wrap aside and crawling up over to where he sits. She wraps her arms about him and straddles his lap, and he leans back, soaks in the feel of her body and the warmth of her skin. For a long while he's content to just kiss her, touch her, get acquainted with how she breathes and sighs into his mouth and across his skin. Her kisses are slow, heady things, like she's drinking in the finest wine, and he grins along her throat when she grinds down on him through her damp, thin panties.

 

“Bucky,” she murmurs into his ear, eyes closed and hands spread along his chest. He's got her pressed into the cot now, his body hovering over hers so he doesn't crush her. He's reminded of how small she is as he settles between her thighs and nips at her pulse, and when she wraps those legs around him again, he can't stop his hips from lurching forward in anticipation.

 

But he slows down enough to pull away, hands on either side of her head, to ask if she's sure once more.

 

“Ain't no going back after this, sugar,” he whispers and kisses her softly. She nods and pulls him close, peppering kisses on his neck and chin and jaw, the scruff tickling her face.

 

“I know. I want this.”

 

Shuri pushes a bit of hair from Bucky's face and drags her thumb over his bottom lip. He sucks it into his mouth and bites down gently. When she grins he slips more of her fingers in and laves them with his tongue, giving her a little hint of what he has in store for her. Her breathing shifts a little and she lifts her bottom, urging him to take what he wants.

 

Pulling back, Bucky slips off her underwear and tosses them aside, then slides his fingers down to stroke her warmth. She gasps and arches into his hand, bucking her hips into it when he circles around her clit slowly. “Mmm, do that faster, Buck,” she moans, and he complies, watching her face as she lies back and closes her eyes. He slips one finger down further and teases her entrance but she jerks back and he pulls his hand away.

 

“Why did you stop?” she asks, opening her eyes, confused. He smiles gently and brushes his lips along hers, presses a kiss to her chin.

 

“I gotta get you ready for me,” he says, pulling from her grasp and sliding down her body.

 

“What are you...Buck, what are you-”

 

“You ain't ready yet, sugar.” He licks his lips, sucks the faint taste of her off his fingers and groans. She's sweet and he can't wait to taste her. “Can I have a taste, Shuri? I'll make it feel good.” She looks down at where he waits with baited breath, and though her lip trembles, she nods.

 

“Out loud. I wanna hear you say it.”

 

“ _Yes_. Please, I want you to. I want...” She trails off when he kisses the inside of her thighs, slow open mouth wet kisses that have her purring with need by the time he dares to taste her. Her hips buck off the bed and she lets out a sharp cry, hands coming down instinctively to grasp at his hair. He lets her, and he licks long, sure strokes across her quivering flesh, sucking her clit into his mouth every so often until she's shaking and grinding down on his face. And he devours her whole, sparing her nothing in his onslaught. When he pulls away, just before he knows she's close to coming, he slicks his fingers in his mouth and slips one, slowly, inside her, waiting patiently as she adjusts to the invasion.

 

“You okay, sugar?”

 

She nods and he strokes her slow and gentle, until she's pushing against his hand and begging him for more.

 

“I'm not gonna break,” she whines, huffing as the pleasure inside her builds slowly. “I want...Bast, I'm close, Bucky, _please_ -”

 

When he takes her into his mouth once more and laps at her clit, fingers pushing and curling up inside her simultaneously, she arches and tugs at his hair near painfully, thighs locked around his neck. The little keening sounds she makes get higher and louder until finally, she's shuddering hard and cries out his name, clenching around his fingers as she comes.

 

Her eyes are still closed when he crawls back up to see how she is. There's the laziest of smiles on her face and her body is warm and lax. He's perfectly content with this, the way she's breathing deep, how she threads her fingers through his hair.

 

“You alright?”

 

She nods and giggles, and hums happily when he kisses her, wraps his arms around her middle and pulls her to his chest. “You?” Her hands stroke the cool metal of his arm, braids draped haphazardly over his pillow.

 

“I'm good if you are.”

 

“But you didn't... you know.”

 

He raises a brow and laughs. “Didn't what, Shuri? Say it.”

 

He thinks she blushes, but the sun outside has started to set and it's dim in the cabin. He thinks about turning on another lamp light, but is loathed to getting out of bed.

 

“You didn't...come,” she finally says, biting her lip when he grins. “I mean, doesn't that hurt?”

 

Bucky shrugs, and shakes his head. “Nah, it ain't that bad. I'll be alright.”

 

She gets that look on her face when she's thinking of something, plotting and planning, and he swears he can see the schematics and blueprints already.

 

“But what if I'm not alright with that?”

 

He frowns, and slides a hand down her bare sides. He hopes to god she doesn't regret this because if she does he'll never forgive himself. He'd wanted her to cherish this, even if nothing else ever came from it but the little taste of heaven she'd allowed him.

 

“What do you mean?” he asks, and she eyes him hungrily, as if she hadn't gotten enough last time.

 

“What if I want more? I mean, that was nice. That was good, honestly, but...”

 

 _Oh_. When she'd said she wanted him she'd meant everything. The little bit of pleasure he'd given her wasn't enough. But he was reluctant to press forward without the proper precautions; he didn't know if she was on contraception and the last thing he wanted was for anything to happen she wasn't ready for. And then there was the very real possibility of hurting her, something he definitely couldn't handle doing.

 

“Are you sure you don't wanna wait? You know, maybe later when you've had time to think about it?”

 

Shuri rolls her eyes and then rolls off his chest, and for a moment he thought her angry, but she turned to him and grinned slyly. He watched her naked body as she padded over to the corner of the room and dug around until she found what she was looking for. Her purse sat on the small table near the window, and she pulled out a pack of condoms as well as a bottle of lubricant.

 

“Do you know how much sneaking about I had to do to get these?” she says, hopping back in bed and popping the cap on the lube. “Amazon doesn't ship to Wakanda yet, so I had them shipped to Oakland. The boy you saw me talking to? He picked the box up for me and sent it to me as under a couple of bags of skittles. No skittles here either, so anyone opening the box wouldn't think twice about me getting candy.”

 

She paused, flipped hair out her face, and waited.

 

“Shuri.”

 

“Mmhm?”

 

“How long have you been planning this, sugar?”

 

She grins then, and straddles his waist once more, leaning forward to kiss him. “A few weeks. Since I realized my crush wasn't going away.” Her eyes lower then and what she says next knocks the wind out of him. “I've been in love with you for a while now. And I kept hoping you'd notice and do something or say something but...I should have known you wouldn't.” She gives him a smile and meets his gaze. “You really don't understand how much you mean to me, do you?”

 

He can only shake his head, and he blinks back tears that threaten to spill forth. “I'm not worthy,” he murmurs, sitting up to kiss her again. “I'll never be worthy of you.”

 

Shuri leans her forehead against his and cups his jaw in her free hand. “You are worthy, James. So worthy. And I love you.”

 

The smile on his face damn near hurts it's so wide but he can't help it. He wraps his arms around her and captures her lips with his own, his hands stroking her skin as he murmurs his affections over and over.

 

“I love you so much, darling, so, so much, I do,” he says, and she smiles, rocks against him and moans to find him hard and ready.

 

“Then make love to me, Bucky,” she whispers. “Please. I want this.”

 

He takes his time exploring her body once more, cataloging every gasp and moan and sigh. His fingers stroke and touch, his tongue tastes and laves her salty sweet skin. He finds the spot under her jaw that makes her whimper and nearly comes undone when she grinds against him as he sucks on her breasts. He's nothing but gentle the entire time, watching every little expression to make sure she's comfortable, that she still wants this. He knows the second she says no, he'd stop. He'd never do anything she didn't want him to.

 

Finally, she's impatient enough to curl her legs around his hips and lock him tight to her body, arching her back and urging him forward. “Please,” she breathes out, and he fumbles along the cot for the condoms, ripping one open with sweaty, shaking hands.

 

“Tug the wrap away, sweet girl,” he instructs, and she does, unwinding the fabric about his waist like she's opening a present. Her eyes widen a bit and she sucks in air, biting her lip in anticipation instead of fear. When she glances up at him, her eyes are dilated wide, and she dares to slide her hands down his chest, trail her nails across his belly button and then lower, stroking his cock with cautious hands.

 

“It's so hot,” she says softly, increasing the strength of her grip when he lets out a half muffled groan. “And soft. It feels good.” She looks up again and grins, laying back and spreading her thighs wide for him as she lets go.

 

“It'll feel good, too,” he assures her, sliding the condom on and slicking himself down with a generous amount of lube. He pours a bit on Shuri too, smiling when she gasps as the coolness of it. But her gasps turn to pants when he presses her against the cot once more and kisses her deeply, gripping her thigh with one hand and holding himself up with the other.

 

“One more time,” he says. “Just to be sure...you want this?”

 

She nods firmly and slings her arms about his shoulders. “I want this. I do. I want you.” She nips at his bottom lip and Bucky reaches down between them, lining himself up with her heat, pressing forward just a little. She stiffens then and he nuzzles her neck, presses soft kisses to her face.

 

“Relax. I've got you.”

 

It's slow going, but he doesn't mind at all. If anything, he needs to go slow because the instant he pushes inside her, stretching her, filling her, he's overwhelmed with just how good this is. It's been so long since he's been with a woman, longer still since sex had been anything but a quick release or a means to an end. This is everything, and he's sure he'll burn into cinders with how hot she is, how tight and wet for him. She doesn't say a word, just bows her head to his shoulder and holds on, her nails digging into his muscled back when he finally fills her to the brim.

 

“You okay?” he asks through the haze in his mind. “I'm not hurting you, am I?”

 

She starts to breathe again and after a moment, shakes her head. “No...no I'm...it's just _full_ , is all.” He presses his forehead to hers and waits until she slides her hands down to the small of his back and shifts her hips up, testing her body for readiness. His thrusts are slow and shallow initially until moving is easier and she's relaxed more. And then he pulls back and pushes in a little bit faster, a little harder and her cry is one of absolute pleasure.

 

“Good, sugar?”

 

“ _Uh huh_ ,” she moans, tilting her head back and moving along with him.

 

“Tell me when it's good,” he groans, and he angles his hips just a little to change the angle. “I wanna know how to make you feel good.” He grunts and pushes in faster, praising her between kisses and moans. “You feel so good, sweet baby,” he murmurs and she lets out a soft cry, her nails scraping up and down the expanse of his back. Her ankles cross and hold him fast, her mouth open and panting as he moves and shifts inside her and there isn't anything else in the world right now but him and her, this, the heat of her bodies and the sweat of their skin. He showers her in accolades as he grinds against her, his hands all over and she sings, inhibited in the cries and whimpers that pour from her throat.

 

Bucky shifts up onto his knees and moves faster, giving all he thinks she can handle until she growls and pulls herself up to match his thrusts, just as hard and fast, her fingers circling her clit in time to the push and pull of his hips. Up and down, in and out and harder and faster until it's all she can do to hold on, eyes closed and mouth open as her orgasm barrels down on her.

 

“Are you comin', darlin'? Tell your Bucky you're comin', I wanna hear it.” For a moment she can't respond, the only noise leaving her mouth a sharp breath, but when he slows his movements and grips the back of her neck, she opens her eyes and moans out a raspy “yes!”

 

“Tell me, sugar, _tell me._ ” He wants to hear her moan it desperately, gasp it out breathless and uncontrolled.

 

She laughs then, gripping the strands of his hair as she pushes against his pull. “Feeding your ego, Bucky?” She moans and pulls his head down so she can meet his eyes. “Want me to tell you...hmmm, fuck...” The expletive rushes out her mouth heatedly and it's one of the most erotic things he's ever heard. “You see what you do to me? Oh _fuck_ , Bucky...I'm coming, I'm gonna-”

 

She cuts off with a sharp cry and screws up her pretty face and leans into him as she starts to climax, holding on to Bucky for dear life and tensing as she falls over the edge. He pushes through it, riding it out and taking it all in, intoxicated with how amazing she feels around him, gripping and clenching, and how beautiful she is in the throes of passion. It's only when he knows she's lost in her own pleasure does he take his own, gripping the sheets below him with white knuckles, the arm whirring and clicking as he nearly rips the fabric. For a second he sees nothing, spots of white before his eyes and he can't hear a thing, can only feel, drown in her and her body.

 

He manages to collapse to the side of her, mindful of their joining and he pulls out slowly so that the condom doesn't get lost. He feels like he's been drained of everything, but he slips the protection off his softening cock and discards it in the trash near the door, then flops back into the cot where she waits, splayed out on his bed with her eyes closed and her chest still heaving.

 

“It's always like that, isn't it?”

 

He snorts out a laugh and wraps her in his arms, breathing in the scent of her, of them and their love. She'll be on his sheets for a long time, even after she's left, and he relishes the thought. Shuri rolls over to face his chest and curls into him, snuggling underneath his chin, her breaths tickling the skin of his neck.

 

“It's not always...spectacular,” he admits. “But it's always good if you can have fun. And it's even better when you're in love.”

 

She lifts her head and looks up at him, smiling. “In love?”

 

“Mmhm,” he assures her, pushing some of her braids from her face, then leaning down to kiss her forehead and her lips. “In love. But you already knew that, didn't you princess?”

 

Shuri giggles softly and yawns, but she shakes her head.

 

“I had a hunch. I do like hearing it though.”

 

He makes it a point to kiss that cheeky grin off her face till she’s melted.

* * *

 

When Bucky wakes the next morning, Shuri still sleeps beside him. He watches her in the soft morning light for a while, memorizing every bit of her just in case he never has the chance to again. This is a fluke, he's sure. She'll wake and wonder just what the hell she'd done the night before, and it will be awkward and painful after. He isn't sure if he can handle having his heart broken like that, but he knows that she's so much more than he deserves. He would never begrudge her if she left and never looked back.

 

After a while, he gets up and tugs on a pair of pants, throws on a shirt and heads out of the cabin to feed the goats. He walks past his rows of yams and okra, makes a mental note to check on the cassava and the beans for weeds. There will be a nice little crop come harvest, enough so he will  can what he can't eat and have them through the mild Wakandan winter.

 

Bini greets him like she always does, bleating and hopping excitedly on all four hooves. Her mother nudges the kid along and accepts her breakfast with a soft head butt, as does Thathu, who rubs his downy head against Bucky's outstretched hand. It's so peaceful out here in the mornings like this. He wishes he could ask Shuri to stay, live with him in these woods and spend the rest of their lives tending the animals and growing vegetables. And a treacherous, dangerous part of him thinks of babies of their own, born out of love and into the safest country on Earth.

 

But she's meant for so much more than an assassin with a metal arm. She deserves the world, and he'd step aside without hesitation if it meant she could be everything she should be.

 

This time he hears the footsteps behind him, no matter how light, and turns to find her watching him, her eyes still sleepy and his wrap tied around her like a makeshift gown. She's naked underneath he knows; the thought turns him on enough that he shifts uncomfortably at the pens and covers his arousal with a smile.

 

“Mornin’ sweet girl,” he calls, and she pads over to where he stands to slip underneath his flesh arm. She snuggles right into him like she was made to be there, her hand splayed across his heart and her head right beneath his chin.

 

“Good morning,” she answers. “I thought to ask you where breakfast was but forgot you don’t cook.” Bucky laughs and slides his fingers up down the expanse of skin exposed on her arm.

 

“I make pretty decent grilled fish and veggies,” he says, to which she wrinkles her nose. “Don’t like fish or…”

 

“It’s not my favorite. Especially in the morning.” She yawns and blinks, reaching up to wipe the sleep out her eyes. “I could do with some Lucky Charms, though. Or Froot Loops.”

 

“Yeah, full of sugar and no nutrition. I don’t think so. If we gotta walk to Kiye’s for grits and back strap-”

 

“Oooh, does she put syrup in her grits?”

 

“You know it. You down to walkin’?”

 

Shuri raises a brow and swings her braids out her face. “ _Bast_ no. I’ve got a car for a reason.”

 

Mentioning the car reminds Bucky of how she’d come alone and what exactly she’d come to talk about. “Yeah, about that...how’d you get out here by your lonesome?”

 

The expression she makes filters between unapologetic and a little worried and he groans. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you snuck out!” If the king or queen mother finds out she’s out with him alone...

 

“It’s not sneaking, Bucky! I’m an adult, I can leave the palace whenever I want!”

 

He scoffs, moving away from her to fill the water troughs before he cleans up and dresses. “T’Challa doesn’t even leave the palace alone. You snuck out. Admit it.”

 

She nearly pouts and then seems to remember she was supposed to be an adult and fixes her face. “I didn't. Sneaking out implies I was told I couldn’t leave. I wasn’t.” There’s a smirk on her lips now and she shrugs nonchalantly. The rebellious streak is attractive, he has to admit. She looks even more devious that she does when she’s in her most teasing of moods, and all he wants to do is kiss her.

 

“I may have mentioned going to the lab. May have even said something about visiting you and these three little munchkins later on after that. And perhaps a stroll through the markets, if I wasn’t too tired.”

 

“But no Doras?” he repeats, stunned to think that she’d managed to get that past the king without an entourage.

 

“Well...no. Not if I said all that in a note instead of mentioning it in person. They’ll find it in an hour or so, I’m sure. Just enough time to get to the village and get some sweet grits and fat back.” She grins then and pecks him quickly on the cheek, a glimmer of mischief in her eye. He rolls his own, but can’t deny her a thing. If she wants some of Kiye’s cooking, then that’s what she’d get.

 

“Great. Gives us enough time to talk about Oakland then,” he says, brushing his hands off on his pants. He’s got a few things he wants to get off his chest, most of all how they’re going to do this, whatever they’re doing. It’s fresh and new and tentative but he wants this so badly, it’s hard to breathe thinking she’ll back out.

 

“Yeah...about that.” Her smile is a little sheepish as she follows him back to the cabin. “On my honor, I had every intention of discussing what happened.”

 

“Uh huh. What changed your mind?” He thinks he knows, but he wants to hear her say it. She’s so fucking cute when she’s flustered.

 

“You were naked in a pond and I was horny,” she says dryly so that he coughs, chokes, and then starts to laugh. “I mean, we could have discussed this after...everything. But someone fell asleep on my arm-”

 

“I told you to roll over. You wanted to sleep under my damn neck.”

 

“I like it there,” she says softly, sweetly, so that he can’t help growling and pulling her to him, kissing her mouth, drinking her in. When he pulls away she runs her fingers through his hair and searches his face, though he doesn’t know what for. Whatever she finds makes her smile, and that makes him smile in turn, so that she leans up and pecks his chin, giggling as the spiry hairs of his beard tickle her mouth and nose.

 

“On the off chance that you planned all this-”

 

“I did,” she admits, winking as she goes into the cabin. She tugs the wrap till it loosens and sit in all her naked glory on the wrinkled sheets of his cot, the sheets that smell like him and her. She leans back and watches him watching her, watches him lick his lips and count to fifty to keep from devouring her whole. He figures she’s still sore, and really, his hand will do the trick.

 

“You brought, uh, extra clothes, yeah? Cause that dress is still a soggy mess right now.”

 

Shuri nods, stretching out across the cot lazily, and flexes her feet and legs as she does. It’s mesmerizing. _She’s_ mesmerizing, his beautiful princess. This feels like a fairy tale; he only hopes there’s no dragons or witches about, that this will have a happy ending.

 

“I’ve got a few different outfits in the car. I’ll change in a minute. I just want to lay here right now.”

 

She extends her hand and implores him silently, so that he shucks off the shirt and peels down the pants and slides into bed beside her again, curling his body around her to keep her safe and warm. She says nothing for a long while, content to listen to his heart beat and he follows suit, tracing little patterns on her skin.

 

“You sure you wanna walk to Kiye’s?”

 

“Drive, Barnes. And um...nah. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.”

 

He likes the idea of a tomorrow. He asks if she’ll even be here then, and she lifts her head long enough to kiss him quiet.

 

“I’ll be here tomorrow. Promise.”

 

He starts to drift back to sleep then, just for a nap he tells himself, with the warm weight of her slight body on his and the soft breeze outside. Bini and Thathu bleat and play while Isinye no doubt grazes. The pond is full of fish, the air is sweet and clean and clear. There’s no war, no killing, no past, just a hope and a wish for a future serving the beautiful woman in his arms.

 

Bucky is a broken mess, but he’s Shuri’s broken mess, and for right now, when he stops thinking so hard, it’s enough.

 


End file.
